CAN West 04 - When Hope Springs New (2 page)
BOOK: CAN West 04 - When Hope Springs New
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Home again,
I exulted inwardly,
after these days and nights on the trail!
I was looking forward to a nice hot bath and a chance to sleep in a real bed. Mosquito netting on the windows and a door to close for some privacy would seem like a luxury after this trip—with its heat, rain, and wind, by turn; with its steep hills, flat marshland, dusty trails, and soggy gumbo. Well, it would not be long now.
I exulted inwardly,
after these days and nights on the trail!
I was looking forward to a nice hot bath and a chance to sleep in a real bed. Mosquito netting on the windows and a door to close for some privacy would seem like a luxury after this trip—with its heat, rain, and wind, by turn; with its steep hills, flat marshland, dusty trails, and soggy gumbo. Well, it would not be long now.
I looked at the sky. Perhaps we had had our last rain shower four hills back. The sky above me was perfectly clear.
Surely it can’t cloud over and drench us again in just forty-five minutes time—probably thirty-five by now.
Even as I reasoned with myself, I wasn’t completely convinced of our safety against another storm. Some of them had seemed to come upon us with incredible swiftness. I fervently hoped we would arrive at the new settlement in dry clothes. I hardly had anything left fit to wear. I was anxious to get out my washtubs and scrub up the wet and soiled things we had been stashing away in the wagon. They would be ruined if I didn’t get at them soon.
Surely it can’t cloud over and drench us again in just forty-five minutes time—probably thirty-five by now.
Even as I reasoned with myself, I wasn’t completely convinced of our safety against another storm. Some of them had seemed to come upon us with incredible swiftness. I fervently hoped we would arrive at the new settlement in dry clothes. I hardly had anything left fit to wear. I was anxious to get out my washtubs and scrub up the wet and soiled things we had been stashing away in the wagon. They would be ruined if I didn’t get at them soon.
The driver stopped to rest the team, and I climbed down from the wagon again. At least when I was walking, my anticipation was being channeled into something. I debated whether I should walk ahead of the team where I felt the risk of being run over at any minute, behind the team, where I would be forced to swallow trail dust, or off to the side where the walking was even more difficult. I decided to follow the team. I would lag far enough behind to let the dust settle a bit.
While I waited for the team to resume, I strolled to the side of the trail and looked around for signs of berries. I hoped there would be some in our area. Many of my canning jars were empty, and I did want to fill them again before another winter.
The area did not look promising.
There’s lots of land around here,
I assured myself.
There could be many good berry patches.
I assured myself.
There could be many good berry patches.
Kip came bounding up. In contrast to me, he thoroughly enjoyed the trip and all the new things there were to investigate. I had hardly seen him all day. He ran this way and that, ahead and behind, only coming back occasionally to check and make sure I was still traveling with the wagons.
I patted his head and was rewarded with generous waves of his curly tail. He licked my hand, then wheeled and was gone again before I even had time to speak to him.
Wynn dropped back, bringing with him a canteen of water.
“Need a drink?” he asked, and I suddenly realized I was thirsty. I smiled my thanks and lifted the canteen to my lips. The water was tepid, not like the refreshing water from our cabin well. Still, it was wet and it did help my thirst.
“We will soon be there,” Wynn informed me. “I think it would be good to slip the leash on Kip. The village dogs might be running loose.”
“He’s gone again,” I answered, alarmed. “He was here just a minute ago and then he ran off.”
“Don’t worry,” Wynn assured me; “he won’t be far away.”
He was right. At the sound of Wynn’s whistle, Kip came bounding through the underbrush at the side of the trail. His coat was dirty and tangled with briers and leaves, his tongue was lolling out the side of his mouth from his run, but he looked contented, perhaps even smug, about his new adventures.
I couldn’t help but envy him. There was no concern showing in his eyes, like I must surely have been showing in mine.
Wynn slipped the leash on Kip and handed it to me. “I’m expected to be up at the front of the wagons when we enter the village,” he stated simply. “Would you like to walk with me?”
I hesitated, not knowing what I wanted to do. I would like Wynn’s support; still, I hated to walk into that new village like I was on display. I disliked the thought of all of those staring eyes.
“I think I’ll just stay back here with Kip,” I mumbled. “He won’t fuss as much if he isn’t in the center of the commotion.”
Wynn nodded. I think he might have guessed my real reason.
The wagons up ahead had paused on the brow of the hill. I knew without even asking that just down that hill lay our new settlement—our new home. I wanted to see it, yet I held back in fear. How could one be so torn up inside, wanting to run to see what lay before, yet holding back from looking, all at the same time?
Without comment, Wynn reached forward and took my hand, then bowed his head and addressed our Father simply, “Our Father in heaven, we come to this new assignment not knowing what is ahead. Only You know the needs of these people. Help us to meet those needs. Help us to be caring, compassionate and kind. Help Elizabeth with all the new adjustments. Give her fellowship and friendships. Give her a ministry to the people, and keep us close to one another and to You. Amen.”
I should have felt much better after Wynn’s prayer, and I guess I did, but it was also another reminder of all the new things and experiences lying ahead.
I smiled at Wynn to assure him that I was fine. The wagons were moving again. We turned to follow, Wynn crossing the ground in long strides that would soon carry him out in front where he was expected to be.
I hesitated, holding in check the impatient Kip. The dust could settle some before I followed. There would be much commotion in the village at the coming of the new law enforcer. Everyone would be out to check him over. I was in no hurry to be thrust into the center of the staring throng.
TWO
Smoke Lake
There it was—our new village stretching out before us on the floor of the forested valley. Wynn was right. It was larger than Beaver River. It was also more primitive and scattered in appearance. Wynn was right again. Yet it did not seem to be properly named. In the hazy stillness of the summer afternoon, not one of the many village homes had smoke ascending from the chimney.
I stood and let my eyes wander over the small, roughly constructed houses. Which one was ours, the one we would call home? In Beaver River our cabin had been set apart from the settlement. I let my eyes travel to the west, then the east, then the north and south. I could find no cabin located on the outskirts of the little village.
I found myself searching then for the sign of a garden. Surely someone in the village must wish to plant. But no, I could find nothing that looked like a cultivated area.
Even from this distance the small cabin homes looked shoddy and ill-kempt. Compared to our homes in Beaver River, these looked like shacks. The large building in the center, which I assumed was the trading post, also looked hurriedly slapped together and run-down. Disappointment welled up within me.
For a moment I wished I could turn around and head back to the village I knew and loved. There I would be welcomed with softly curling woodsmoke. I would find a well-constructed, well-stocked trading post. I would discover my comfortable cabin at the outskirts of the village. I would be welcomed by neighbors and friends with gardens and berry patches.
Kip did not share my longings. He pulled forward on the leash and reminded me with a whine that I was to follow the wagons down the dusty, winding hill.
I broke from my reverie and started my descent. Already I could hear the village dogs as they set up their frenzied barking to announce the coming of strangers. Wynn’s crated dog sled team, which rode the second wagon, responded to the howls. What a noise they all made!
Amid the din caused by the dogs, there were a few shouts and hellos, and arms were lifted in greeting. The first wagon was already rolling to a stop, boiling dust whirling in around it.
I pulled back on Kip’s leash. I wanted some of the excitement to die down before I entered the village.
I saw a larger rock at the side of the trail in the shade of the tall pine trees. I led Kip to it and sat down to watch the milling around in the village below us. Kip whined and strained at the leash until I commanded him to be quiet and to lie down. He obeyed, rather reluctantly, and I turned my eyes back to the scene below.
It was several minutes before the wagons moved forward again. They stopped before a very small cabin with a sagging roofline, and I saw Wynn signal the men to begin unloading our crates and boxes.
Surely there must be some mistake! I thought. That cabin isn’t large enough to house Wynn’s office, let alone our household too.
Then a new thought passed through my mind.
No, we couldn’t possibly be expected to live in that. It must be that our cabin is not ready, and we need to make do with temporary quarters.
No, we couldn’t possibly be expected to live in that. It must be that our cabin is not ready, and we need to make do with temporary quarters.
The unloading continued, and I saw Wynn look toward our hill. I knew he was searching for me, wondering what was taking me so long. I lifted my arm to let him know I was fine and coming to join him, and Kip and I started down the hill again.
I had not avoided the curious eyes. The people of the village stood in groups all around me as I entered with Kip straining forward on the leash. I knew they considered the white woman a strange spectacle. My skin was different, my hair was different, my dress was different—even my dog, leashed and fluffy, was different.
I smiled and softly greeted them in the Indian tongue. I was thankful that at least I knew their language.
No one answered my words or smiled in return. They continued to stare, moving back slightly from the path that led me to the small cabin.
Relieved, at last I reached my husband and hoped to be able to divert some of the staring eyes. I wished for a door to duck through, but there was only one in the very small cabin, where men were busy moving in and out, carrying crates and boxes.
“Well,” said Wynn in a tired-sounding voice, “we are here.” Then his tone turned teasing. “I thought for a minute that you got lost.”
“I was in no hurry,” I explained, and Wynn smiled, remembering the “hurry” I had been in throughout the morning.
“It isn’t much, is it?” he said then, nodding his head at the cabin.
I tried to sound cheerful. “It’ll do for now,” I responded.
“What do you mean, for now? This is it, Elizabeth. This is our new home.”
“It is?” I know that shock registered in my voice.
“It is. I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I had expected something better than this—even for here.”
I had expected something better than this, too. Never had I thought that anyone lived in such crowded, miserable quarters. I’m sure my face turned pale, in spite of my healthy tan and my sunburned nose.
I recovered as quickly as I could, gulped away the tears in the back of my throat, and tried to speak. My voice sounded strange, forced. “We’ll manage,” was all I could say.
“Why don’t you find a spot in the shade somewhere until the men are done unloading?” Wynn suggested, and I nodded dumbly and moved Kip around the cabin.
Indian cabins were all around us. There was no place to go where I wouldn’t be subject to staring eyes. I wasn’t ready for that yet. I wished I could go into the house to get away from it all, but I would only be in the way. Goodness knows, there was little room in there as it was.
With new determination I lifted my chin, took Kip’s leash well in hand and started down the trail that led in a winding, circuitous route out of the village.
It took several minutes to walk far enough to be clear of the shabby little cabins. Kip whimpered and complained as I hurried him along. He wished to stop and investigate his new surroundings and make the acquaintance of the many thin, rough-coated dogs that strained against their tethers.
I hurried Kip right on by.
When we finally reached the woods beyond the village, I slowed my pace. I took a deep breath of the fresh summer air. It was tangy with the smell of pine trees and scented flowers. A small stream trickled nearby, and I followed the path that led along the bank.
We had not gone far when we came to a small lake. I looked out across it, enjoying its beauty, its tranquillity. I cannot explain what that little lake did for my spirits at that moment.
Here was a hallowed spot in the middle of all the squalor, the disappointment, of the little village. Here was someplace where I could go to refresh my soul. I eased myself down on the grass beside the waters and let my frustration and loneliness drain from me.
Surely, God is in this place.
The words formed in my mind without any conscious effort. As I repeated them again, a quiet peacefulness settled upon me.
The words formed in my mind without any conscious effort. As I repeated them again, a quiet peacefulness settled upon me.
“Surely, God is in this place.” I spoke the words aloud. It was true. It was a promise. It was enough.
THREE
A New Home
The sun was dipping behind the western horizon and the evening was beginning to cool when I retraced my steps down the path and into the village. The familiar scent of woodsmoke greeted me, and I breathed it in deeply. Maybe life in this new village wouldn’t be so different after all.
For one panic-stricken moment I feared I might not be able to find the shabby little cabin that was to be our new home amid all the other shabby little cabins. But Kip led me right to it. Actually, I think I would have found it without difficulty, even by myself. There simply was no other cabin in the village with so much activity. One wagon still stood in front of our little building, boxes and crates piled high in the wagon box. I wondered why Wynn had not instructed the men to unload all the things.
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